Seven Months in Hell
by Priestess Aishisu
Summary: Malik, Yu-Gi-Oh, Bakura, and Kaiba (maybe Isis, Mariku, Ryou, and Yugi later) have been forced (by me) to spend seven months together. Atemu and Touzoku Ou will be there as well…DISCONTINUED
1. All The Reasons This Will Be A Disaster

Priestess Aishisu: Well, I couldn't decide whether the next Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction I wrote would be Dark/Casteshipping or Antago/Corruptshipping. And I found I way to do both! No, it's not Archaishipping. It's Antagoshipping and Casteshipping.  
Confused?  
This is based on another fanfiction I wrote called _Shapes of Love,_ based on another of my fanfictions of the same name.  
Malik, Yu-Gi-Oh, Bakura, and Kaiba (and maybe Isis, Mariku, Ryou, and Yugi later) have been forced by Adularia (a.k.a me) to attend a seven-month camp or whatever you want to call it. Atemu and Touzoku Ou will be there as well…  
Also, this is kind of—how do I put this? It was based on some author notes with the characters complaining about authors.  
So they know things the characters an author note know, even though they're not written in script formatting (this site doesn't permit script formatting) That's why they don't want to do this—not only are they spending seven months with people they hate, they're controlled by the 'tyranny' of a woman who just happens to be an angst expert.  
I am not exaggerating, as fans of my Mediaminer fanfiction can probably attest to quite readily. I write angst all the time.  
On with the fanfiction!

«§Ж§»

"Are you all right?" Ryou Bakura asked, endearing green eyes gazing at his yami,' or dark side.

"No," Yami no Bakura replied flatly, slender white fingers gripping his paintbrush ever tighter. His fingers moved so swiftly it was almost impossible to see. "Get out of my room."

"It's technically my room, seeing as how it's technically my apartment," Ryou replied with surprising audacity for such a delicate-looking boy, glancing around the room. In spite of Bakura's obviously frenzied state, it looked the same as it always did.

It was a lovely room, no doubt about that, the walls and ceilings painted to look as if they were in Ancient Egypt at night—glow-in-the-dark constellations and everything.

The curtains were midnight blue, and the neatly made bed had a deep blue comforter-and-pillow ensemble and pale blue sheets. There was a desk with a fine writing set, sheet after sheet of fine white paper written on in ancient Egyptian, and more papers folded in origami shapes. There was an easel set up, and the near-albino Spirit was currently painting what seemed to be a village on fire.

Bakura had set the room up himself, having needed something to do after giving up villainy for reasons he would tell no one. Among his hobbies were writing poems, painting, and doing origami.

He also liked singing and learning any new thing he could—and though Ryou was grateful for his help, it was depressing that an Ancient Egyptian Spirit who had just gained his own body a few months ago was better at math than him.

According to his best friend Yugi, his yami Yu-Gi-Oh was the same. They agreed that math must have existed in Ancient Egypt—the only other explanation was that they were retarded, and they refused to believe that.

"Well, for seven months, there'll be nothing 'technical' about it—I won't be anywhere near here."

"Oh, come on, yami!" Ryou replied, pouting cutely. "Adularia said that I might end up coming around later. And Yugi, and Isis, and Mariku."

Bakura let out an earsplitting shriek and flung his paintbrush at the wall. It hit the wall and trailed onto the ground, leaving a line of red on the mound of sand he had painted—so realistic it was almost impossible to believe it wasn't real, and due to Bakura's power could be made real with a wave of the hand.

**"Mariku?!"** he roared, whirling on his hikari. "Don't I have enough to worry about with Malik? I mean, the Pharaoh's a nightmare on his own!"

"I notice you didn't mention Kaiba," murmured his deceptively innocent-looking hikari. The brush lifted from the ground and flew at him. He dodged it. The lamp, the origami papers, even the bed lifted up and soared forward. Ryou ran.

Once certain Ryou was gone, Bakura waved a hand and the things settled back in place. Heaving a bitter sigh, he gazed around at his beautiful room—a room he wouldn't be able to see again for seven months. _Why the fuck did I have to be part of this?_

«§Ж§»

"Why the fuck did I have to be part of this?"

A graceful young woman with intense sapphire eyes sighed as she watched her brother pacing around the room, running slim fingers through her strait black hair. He had reason to be upset, she knew, especially considering that it was Adularia—of all the millions of authors in fandom, she was one of the top-hundreds in likeliness to do something horrible to one of her characters.

"Me, Kaiba, Bakura, and the pharaoh, under the tyranny of that…**woman.** We're all gunnu die…we're all gunnu die…"

Mariku watched his hikari pace, leaning against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his skintight black jeans. "Does anybody in this household remember the meaning of the word 'sleep?' Why don't you just relax?"

Malik whirled on his yami much as Bakura whirled on Ryou, his lilac eyes blazing a torrential violet.

**"Relax?!"** he hissed, the deep snarl carrying more rage than a roar. "How can I relax?! **Seven fucking months** with Kaiba, Bakura, and the Pharaoh, our fates controlled by every whim of that vile woman! Do you not remember what has happened to me in her other fanfictions? I'm her third-favorite character to torture, after Bakura and the Pharaoh!"

Mariku gazed at Malik placidly.

There was a long silence in which Isis did no more than watch and pray that Mariku didn't say anything to get himself clobbered with the Millennium Rod (the Pharaoh had finally agreed to wild fangirls' demands of not killing Mariku or Bakura, as long as Malik got the Rod—though Bakura couldn't be separated from the Ring, and besides he could keep coming back to life)

Mariku stretched, totally casual, clearly enjoying the suspense. He straitened up, smirking hands on his cocked hips. "So," he said, perfectly calm, "which one of them do you love?"

Malik's jaw dropped and he stepped back. Then rage took over, and Isis covered her eyes. The last thing she wanted to watch was her brother's yami get beaten to a pulp by said brother.

Fists clenching, eyes blazing, Malik hissed, "Excuse me?"

"Think about it," replied Mariku smugly, obviously having no fear for his personal health. "That's why authoresses have these trip things, right? Either humor or romance, and we all know Adularia prefers romance."

Isis wondered if he was suicidal.

"Four of them…and Adularia has paired all seven of them with the other two at least once—leaving whoever you love available. So, which one do you love?"

The silence lasted almost an hour this time. Isis felt as if she would faint. At last, Malik snapped, "I'm going to bed," and stormed off.

«§Ж§»

It was at least an hour before the sun would be rising over Domino City. Most of the inhabitants were still very much asleep. However, there is no rest for the wealthy.

Mokuba Kaiba yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, sitting on the edge of his brother's bed as he wearily watched said brother prepare for a meeting with foreign investors. The young vice president was still visibly tired, but his big brother Seto Kaiba didn't seem to know the meaning of the word 'sleep.'

There was far too much work to be done to mess with such a trivial thing, especially since Adularia—the author more commonly known as Priestess or Priestess Aishisu—was going to make him take seven months off from work.

In spite of himself, Mokuba's purplish gray eyes shifted to the small drawer in which Kaiba kept his most valuable possessions—and, at the same time, the ones which held the most negative memories—the Millennium Eye and his Duel Monsters deck.

After the yamis and hikaris gained their own bodies, and Kaiba gained several new powers—including the power to control and create lightning and other electricity, an ability that was dangerous enough (if left uncontrolled) that he had to accept his past and his powers and all the implications—he had locked these items up and swore not to take them out unless absolutely necessary.

Now he would have to take them out again. And he wasn't happy about it.

«§Ж§»

Namonsaki Pharaoh (nameless Pharaoh), an ancient Egyptian Spirit who had formerly ruled all Egypt, glared out the window. Well, he wasn't nameless anymore (his name was Yu-Gi-Oh) and he wasn't a Spirit either. What he **was** was angry.

And that was never a good thing.

"Oh come on, Yu-Gi-Oh" his childlike little aibou Yugi said coaxingly, breaking into his yami's disgruntled thoughts. "Maybe it will be fun."

Yu-Gi-Oh jumped off the bed and whirled around, glaring into Yugi's large sweet eyes. "_Fun?_ **Fun? How can it be _fun?_** I'm going to be forced to live with the Tomb Robber and Seto Kaiba****for **seven fucking months!** If that's fun, I'll jump into the Nile and be eaten by alligators!"

Yugi flinched at his yami's outburst, but decided to simply reply, "You'd have to go back to Egypt to jump into the Nile."

Yu-Gi-Oh groaned loudly and flung himself back onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow and hoping he would suffocate.


	2. And So It Begins…

Touzoku Ou Bakura raised his head at the sound of distant voices—so distant no ordinary person could have heard. Then again, he had never been ordinary in life—now, as a muse to a bunch of lunatics, he was about as unordinary as you can get.

A tan hand brushed white hair from his face. Peering into the distance with impossibly keen eyes, he discerned four approaching figures. Recognizing an unmistakable crown of ebony-spiked hair, he groaned and muttered, "Oh fuck, there are two of them."

The figures approached quicker, and he leaned against the doorframe as he waited. He wished the annoying prick who happened to be inside could be the one outside right now—Touzoku Ou wasn't particularly good at conversation of any source.

But as it was, he didn't have time to say anything before Yu-Gi-Oh extracted a knife he had been hiding in his belt and lunged.

Before anybody who happens to be a fan of the Thief King—among which I am included—happens to worry, Yu-Gi-Oh went right through the white-haired rogue and slammed into the wall behind him.

His o.o expression vanishing, Touzoku Ou said calmly, "Didn't Adularia tell you? You can't kill me, I'm a muse—besides, I'm already dead."

"Finally here?" Atemu asked, walking into the door. Looking down at Yu-Gi-Oh, who was strumming his fingers against the floor and muttering under his breath, he asked sympathetically, "You went through him, didn't you?"

Yu-Gi-Oh nodded, clearly furious. "I'm a muse, too," Atemu pointed out, bending over to pick up the knife. "I won't go through him."

"Absolutely not!" Touzoku Ou shouted, snatching the knife away. Malik, Kaiba, and Yu-Gi-Oh stared. They clearly were astounded that anybody—muse or no—could move that fast.

"Have you forgotten what Adularia said? No killing! I don't know about you, but _I_ don't want to be molested again. That woman is strong, no matter how skinny she is!"

(A/N: All of that is true: I love 'glomping' the Bakuras, I'm a black belt in three kinds of martial arts, and I'm really thin—especially in comparison to Touzoku Ou)

Atemu smiled impishly. "She didn't molest _me."_ (A/N: True again. I hate Atemu's guts)

Touzoku Ou's eyes narrowed. "Forget the rules," he hissed, shooting each word like an arrow—precise and cruel. He let out a roar which caused Atemu to yelp and flee, barely avoiding getting stabbed. Yu-Gi-Oh, Kaiba, Bakura, and Malik watched as the white-haired bandit king chased the Pharaoh out of the room.

The door snapped shut the minute they were all in. Yu-Gi-Oh immediately jumped to his feet and started pounding on it, pulling, kicking, all to no avail.

"You can't lock me up like this!" he shrieked. "Let me go! What about my Miranda rights? You're supposed to say I have the right to remain silent! Nobody said I have the right to remain silent!"

"Pharaoh, you _have_ the right to remain silent!" barked Bakura, pressing his hands over his ears. "What you **don't** have is the mental capacity!"

"I'm going to go explore this prison," Malik informed them. "Listening to you two might make me lose my mind."

"Isn't it lost already?" Yu-Gi-Oh asked, and had to duck very quickly. Malik's briefcase bounced off the wall and he dashed over.

He inspected it and moaned. "You dented it!" he screamed at Yu-Gi-Oh. "Isis and I are having financial problems as it is, with me having no job and Mariku causing so much property damage!"

Under his breath, Kaiba muttered, "Gods **damn** I hate my life."

No one could disagree with him there.

«§Ж§»

Touzoku Ou and Atemu took easily an hour to finish their little chase. Bakura, Kaiba, Malik, and Yu-Gi-Oh had spent the time unpacking and exploring and trying in vain to escape.

There had only been one bedroom available (Touzoku Ou and Atemu were muses, so they had to do what they said) and Yu-Gi-Oh and Malik had taken it.

The reason for this was that Bakura and Kaiba had flatly refused to share a room with Yu-Gi-Oh and, since Kaiba rarely slept and Bakura was very flexible, they had agreed to take the large and admittedly quite beautiful living room. The five of them were sitting in that room right then, and Kaiba was already typing away.

"Well, besides 'inspiring' the Goddess of Evil Pairings, we have to make sure you don't break the rules and know what you have to do, blah-blah-blah," Touzoku Ou informed them. "His Royal Pain-In-The-Ass Highness is checking the food supply, so I had better tell you that you aren't allowed to kill each other or leave."

"Yeah, right, like you needed to tell me that!" Yu-Gi-Oh shouted. Bakura groaned loudly, recognizing this as the beginning of one of his rants. Yu-Gi-Oh listed his complaints, ticking them off on his fingers as he did. "I've been burnt, zapped, fried, jolted, jostled, shaken, stirred—"

"What are you, a Pharaoh or a drink?" Kaiba snapped, still typing. For all his overtime work, new things appeared every day and Adularia would probably keep them very busy for the next seven months.

"—shocked, pinched, and bitten," he finished, glaring at the brunette.

"I must hold on before I, too, am entirely out of sanity," muttered Malik, massaging his temples against a fierce headache—you would have had one, too.

Insulted, Yu-Gi-Oh retorted, "I have more sanity now than you ever have!" He ducked the Millennium Rod just in time to keep his precious hair.

By now officially fed up, he shouted, "I swear, if one more thing gets pitched at my head…" He ducked Touzoku Ou's knife, extracted seemingly out of nowhere.

"How **dare **you—" Bakura threw a knife as well. "How **dare **you—" he ducked another of Touzoku Ou's knives. "How **dare **you—" another of Bakura's. **"Will you cut it**—**"** Kaiba's briefcase hit his forehead, and he passed out.

Being an ancient spirit, his swoon lasted only a few moments longer than Touzoku Ou and Bakura's admittedly long laughing fit did, and he sprung up in fury.

"That does it!" he yelled, rubbing his aching forehead. "I challenge each and every one of you assholes to a Shadow Game right this minute!"

Touzoku Ou lifted his eyebrow, an act which looked rather strange due to the three intersecting scars on his cheek. "All four of us? And no killing, remember?"

Yu-Gi-Oh crossed his arms and sulked.

Within moments Atemu returned, earning a glare from those who thought he had taken too long. The Pharaoh looked worried, and the cause was explained the moment he set down the meal.

A bowl of grapes, a sticky chocolate cake, six beef ribs that were as much fat as meat, a plate of shrimp with four kinds of sauce, a saucer of raisins, and a pitcher of strawberry lemonade.

"What!?" cried Malik.

"That can't feed all of us!" Yu-Gi-Oh protested.

"Duh," he replied. "Now, if you don't mind me, muses need to muse. Touzoku Ou, make sure they don't kill each other."

"You know," said Bakura suddenly, tossing his pale lovely hair over his shoulders. "That game might not be such a bad idea—but let's play for food, instead of souls."

"Regular cards?" Malik asked, holding up a deck. "There are too many of us for Duel Monsters."

"Sure," Yu-Gi-Oh replied, and Bakura noticed him finger his wristband delicately. "Since there are more of us, I think we should do poker or something."

"Fine," Bakura replied with a shrug. He glanced over his shoulder. "Kaiba?"

"No thanks," Kaiba replied without looking up from his computer screen, his fingers darting over his keyboard with unerring swiftness.

"Suit yourself," Bakura replied.

"Where are you going?" Malik asked Touzoku Ou as he left. He was already beginning to shuffle. "Aren't you hungry at all?"

"I am a _muse,"_ Touzoku Ou replied, in the tone one might use when speaking to a person who was either clueless or retarded. "I need to muse. Adularia likes me better, and I'll bring more knives this time. Besides, reviewers feed me." And so the game commenced.

But, in a few minutes, Bakura slapped his cards onto the carpet—Yu-Gi-Oh and Malik had already done so, but not facedown. "Excuse me, I thought I was the evil one here? Why am I the only one not cheating?"

Malik and Yu-Gi-Oh burst into a stream of protests. He waited, bored, through "Me? Cheat? Never!"s and "Pharaohs do not cheat!"s and "I don't know what you're talking about"s before deciding to prove his mind.

"Oh? Then tell me why Malik has three pairs when you can only have five cards, and his Royal Piss-Ass has five kings when there are only four kings in the game and _I have two of them!"_

"Umm…Err…" at this point, Yu-Gi-Oh would send his rival to the Shadow Realm, but of course he knew that Bakura happened to be more than capable of returning the favor and Yu-Gi-Oh certainly wouldn't want that! "I…I promised Yugi…that I would write to him! That's right! I promised to write! Bye!"

"Hey!" Malik cried. "Traitor! You can't even write Japanese and you know it!" Turning to Bakura, he said, "I have to write to Isis to make sure Mariku hasn't killed anybody. Bye!"

Bakura blinked at the rapidly fleeing figures, then shrugged and reached for a rib—only to be encumbered by a hand with fingers as long, pale, and slender as his.

Blinking into a familiar pair of sapphire blue eyes, he asked, "What are you doing? I thought you weren't hungry."

"Actually, I just didn't want to duel that schizophrenic idiot after throwing a briefcase at his head—he's driven me insane a few times, you know."

"Which is one of the good things about being insane already," Bakura replied with a shrug.

"So can I eat or not?" Kaiba replied.

"Go ahead," he told him, starting to slice the cake. "I can't eat all of this myself, and I'd rather not leave any leftovers."

"Why are you having the cake first?"

"Because I don't want to imagine the Pharaoh or Malik on sugar high," he replied, taking a bite. "Mm…this isn't bad."

Kaiba, who was eating a rib, watched him savor each bite. "Fuck, you make eating cake look like a sin," he said without thinking, making Bakura snort for some reason.

"That's what the ibis said about ice cream," he replied, already grabbing the second slice.

Kaiba's eyes furrowed. _Ibis_…that was an Egyptian creature, right? A monkey…with a dog's head—oh, Jonouchi. He snickered. "In that case, I'm never saying it again." He finished off two ribs before looking at Bakura again and laughing.

"What?"

Feeling daring suddenly, Kaiba used his finger to swipe the blob of chocolate icing from Bakura's nose. He licked it off his finger. "You're right, it is good."

Bakura snorted and grabbed a spoon, filling it with icing and cake and chocolate shavings. Kaiba opened his mouth to ask what he was doing, and Bakura put the spoon in his mouth. Kaiba closed his mouth over it.

For a second all he tasted was metal, warm from Bakura's mouth. He moved his tongue, and encountered the sweet, delicious warmth of chocolate.

He closed his eyes as the spoon slipped from his lips, the sweetness filling his mouth with rich delight. He was unable to suppress a moan of pleasure.

Glancing up, he saw Bakura smirking at him and stuck his tongue out. The white-haired Egyptian rolled his eyes. "Oh, how mature."

"I'm the CEO of a huge company. I don't have to be mature."

"Whatever."

In the end, they both finished off every last bite. In between eating, they insulted Yu-Gi-Oh and chatted and insulted Yu-Gi-Oh and bickered and insulted Yu-Gi-Oh and laughed and insulted Yu-Gi-Oh. Did I mention all their insults towards poor Yu-Gi-Oh, who isn't really **that** bad?

(Touzoku Ou: Yes he is.  
Priestess Aishisu: Shut up  
Touzoku Ou: I'm a muse! I don't have to shut up just because you tell me to!  
Priestess Aishisu: Do you want to be paired up with Haga?  
Touzoku Ou: …  
Priestess Aishisu: I didn't think so)

Kaiba had more fun in that hour or so than he usually did in a week. After eating, they played poker. Bakura won, and Kaiba demanded a rematch. This happened about thirty-eight times, and then Kaiba finally won.

Somewhere in the middle of his gloating over it, the poor guy ended up falling asleep in mid-sentence—I guess those three months not sleeping due to making sure he would have all his work done for seven months finally caught up with him.

Bakura snorted and picked up the long, lanky teenager with unusual care—especially for him. Laying him on the couch, he lay down next to him and promptly fell asleep as well.

Hey, even ancient Egyptian Spirits need to get some sleep sometimes.


End file.
